


Funny Little Tune

by Badfaith



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Pirates, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badfaith/pseuds/Badfaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat was a terrible singer, and was blessedly aware of that fact. As a result, he didn’t sing. Ever. But it was so quiet and eerie in the shiphive and nobody was around right now. There likely wouldn’t be anyone else for a few more hours, so why not just….let it out a little?</p><p>Just to break up the silence?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Funny Little Tune

Karkat had gone to the slime thinking about storms. He was curled in a tight ball inside the coon, floating in a pool of silky, gently swaying nothing until some stray thought wiggled its way through the haze and lured him out of his sleep.

When he emerged with a dripping chin and bleary half opened eyes, the hive was silent except for the roaring boom of thunder in the distance and the constant tapdance of the rain on the roof of the shiphive. These were the sounds he had fallen asleep to hours ago. He felt disoriented and couldn't quite bring himself to believe it was still raining. The world around him creaked and shifted ever so slightly with the weight of the onslaught. The dressers, the fireplace, all slightly canted towards the right. Everything had that smothered rainy feel to it, as if the weather was pressing in with an ice cold grip at all sides.

A part of Karkat wanted to climb out of the coon now and make his usual rounds about the hive, maybe get something to eat, maybe play some videogames, but another part wanted nothing more than to stay away from the epileptic way the narrow walls flashed when a streak of lightning scratched across the sky. It reminded him too much that they were on a tiny ship on a tiny island in the middle of an ocean and sky that were angrily rebelling against each other. Karkat also happened to be the only dunderfuck in a hundred mile radius without a set of gills. Lucky him.

He was ashamed, but he didn't want to walk. The halls were dark and full of monsters made of water and wind that loved nothing more than to rise up and strike down ornery little seadwellers. No, it was better to stay in the slime for now, even though he couldn't bring himself to drift to sleep again. He desperately looked around for anything within arm’s reach that could distract him from the worry that nibbled on the edges of his thoughts. His matesprit was still out there, feeding the monster with more monsters. Out there in _that_.

The husktop was the first thing Karkat honed in on. He scooted right up to the nightstand with his elbows still dipped in slime, leaning in so close that his face was underlit by the luminous bright square of the screen. He stared blankly at the desktop background he’d drawn himself. His own face as well as his matesprit’s smiled timeless and unaffected by time or the weather outside. In the corner, the Imperial red of the Trollian icon stood out among the gray. The husktop had been a good idea in theory but temptation was too great.

He wanted to message Eridan, of course, sure, duh. Messaging Eridan was definitely his first reaction when he started to worry. While he was in the middle of a hunt, Eridan didn’t often respond to messages anyway and even if he did it could be dangerous. The last thing Karkat wanted to do was distract him when a giant whatever-the-fuck was clicking its mandibles and curiously contemplating a fish filet...  He could feel his own weakness magnetically pulling his fingers towards the keys but he curled them and firmly planted the knuckles on the track pad, sending the cursor skittering like an insect.

No. He wasn't going to be emotional about this. Eridan was full of a furious, awe inspiring stupidity that was unnaturally determined  to survive and propagate itself. Like some kind of infectious disease, he'd just mutate to fit any situation and be fine.

 _He'll be fine, he's a dumbass highblood, he's fine._ With a ferocious squeeze of his own palm, Karkat carefully released himself, watching at a lower frame rate as the cursor hovered over Eridan's perpetually open Trollian box and then slid right on by it. Phew.

Buzzing with relief, the troll clicked on the weather app instead and told himself he'd check the rain gauge and the radar, and everything would be ok.

Looking at the weather turned out to be a fucking terrible idea. If the there was some kind of cosmic shitlist dictating all the terrible ideas Karkat had ever thought up, this would at least come to number 27 or so.

The storm they were in the middle of was a giant swirling piss stain on an otherwise pristine map, and only radiated unfairness with every animated undulation. Karkat's tension rose as he watched that cloud expand and contract on the page, shifting his blunt teeth up to chew at his lip.

He's dealt with worse storms before, you know.

The chewing didn't ebb in the slightest. The inclusion of that other voice rarely helped anything. He really should have ignored it but right now it was just he and the storm. He needed the company. Even if it just meant dissolving into another argument with himself.

I _know okay! I know, but you can't account for anything that might go wrong. What if a monster uses it as cover to attack, what if other highbloods do….what if…._

_Yeah, and what else? How do you think sitting here polluting your genital-coverings over it is going to help? Why don't you go do something useful?_

_Like WHAT? What can I possibly do?_

_...Hell, I don't know. Why do I have to come up with everything?_

_Augh, just SHUT UP_. He thought with a ferocious spike of frustration, closing the computer hard and vengefully. He got to his feet with a grunt and a point to prove. By the time he’d dragged himself out the slime, he was already walking. True, he was going a little faster than normal, but what did it matter? True, he wasn’t turningdown the shadowy hall but that irrelevant!

He didn't really notice where he was headed and instinctually ended up in the middle of their huge hygiene block, a tiny drop of lingering slime slowly winding down his leg and shattering on the title. He didn’t understand himself. What was he supposed to do in here? Take a shower during the middle of a thunderstorm?

I can't remember what happened on Troll Myth Busters when they tried that, he thought miserably, briefly leaning forward and resting his forehead against the cool surface of the shiny gray walls. Did they bust it or not?

At a loss for what else to do, he decided to take the risk. Eridan had great water pressure in here, and his shower was spacious, the racks full of different scented soaps. There were SOME perks to having a douchey seadweller as a matesprit, although they were few and far between.

The hot water came down in a torrent that forced limpness into Karkat’s taut muscles and soothed his sore neck and back. He gave himself an ultimatum. If Eridan did not message him in a few more hours then he’d have cause to worry that the expedition wasn’t going well. At which point he would do...something, he wasn’t sure what that something would be, but he’d definitely do it.

The shower proceeded normally, with no major differences from other showers he had taken. As usual, he stood under the hot water aimlessly for at least two minutes before he started washing anything, coupled by a few more minutes of standing aimlessly under the hot water after he was done washing everything. Karkat always liked how showers seemed to exist in their own little pocket of time and it was hard to tell the difference between a minute and an hour while you were in there.  If he hadn’t currently been alone in the middle of a dark, stormy ocean, it would have been a lot more comforting. Well, mostly alone. Feferi was down there somewhere, he was sure, reenacting scenes from Troll Disney movies with unwilling and highly homesick groups of sea creatures, but he wasn’t exactly holding his breath for her to be his rescuer if something went wrong.

Karkat had just finished rinsing out his hair when he noticed that he was humming. There was a song, wriggling like a worm in the back of his mind, wanting badly to squirm out. Karkat was a terrible singer, and was blessedly aware of that fact. As a result, he didn’t sing. Ever. But it was so quiet and eerie in the shiphive and nobody was around right now. There likely wouldn’t be anyone else for a few more hours, so why not just….let it out a little?

Just to break up the silence?

“Yo, ho yo ho…” he started shakily, running his soapy hands over one of his knees and squatting down a little to wash his legs. “A pirate’s life for me. We pillage we, uh… Fuck. Um, we… Oh yeah, we plunder and rifle and loot, drink up me hearties, yo ho.”

This was by far the shittiest attempt at remembering the lyrics to a song within the course of the last solar sweep, he was sure of it, but after dissolving into a mess of humming, slurring and substituting words Karkat was sort of carrying a tune and starting to feel better.

That was about the time he heard the bedroom door slam. Karkat let out a little exclamation of terror, promptly slipping on the slick shower floor and almost crashing down on his ass. Thankfully, he managed to grab the shower door before this could happen, letting loose a string of curses that could make Seahorsedad blush as his legs trembled with the effort to steady himself.

The walls of the shiphive were paper thin. Had he heard him singing? Karkat immediately flushed all over with extreme embarrassment, but Eridan had already barreled into the hygiene block before he had the time to process it, like some ballsy legislacerator sauntering into a late-night entertainment den crowded with prolific criminals.

The other troll’s clothes were wet and dirty, his wavy hair was slicked by wind and rain and hilariously blown upward all to one side. Of course, he still managed to look snarky even when shivering like a newborn barkbeast with cold. Karkat could only imagine how the tips of his horns felt right about now.  

“Nice s-singin” said Eridan through chattering teeth. “Glad to know you’re enjoyin’ yourself while I’m out in the devil’s irritable fuckin b-bowels drownin’ like some sodden squeakbeast.” After looking around for a few seconds, he raised his eyebrows as if actually seeing Karkat for the first time since he’d walked in. “The hell are you showerin’ in the middle of a fuckin’ thunderstorm for? Ain’t seen Troll Mythbusters lately or what?”

“You can’t drown, genius,” Karkat huffed defensively, inwardly cursing the universe’s longstanding grudge against him. He really could be electrocuted at any moment? Well, that was just fantastic. He’d made a grand investment. His eyes narrowed, feeling a trace element of his former tension creep up into the back of his throat. “And you know I’ve done nothing but fret over your miserable existence since I woke up so I hope you’re willing to accept the certificate of authenticity that comes with my very kissable and reasonably priced shame globes.”

Eridan’s leer softened into something different, and also entirely welcome. It was slow, half lidded, tolerant. “I know, love.”

The relief that spread through Karkat at the sight of him, whole, uncrushed and unmauled was a lot like the heat that emanated from the hot water. With that in mind, he reached forward and popped the shower door open without even pausing to think about, inviting his matesprit inside. A second of hesitation from the other troll and he would have grabbed Eridan’s sleeves, pulling him in by force. If an electrocution was going to happen, he was set as the moons were green and pink on taking Eridan Ampora down with him.

“You didn’t need to burst in like that,” Karkat grunted as he stepped aside to make room for the taller troll and after a moment’s hesitance wrapped his hands around his thin waist. “You’re such an atrophied owl dick.”

“Fuckin’ p-poetry.”

Eridan was so cold that he didn’t bother to peel off his clothes until he was already under the steaming jet of water, sighing long and weary from deep in his ribs. Karkat had to help him, dodging splatters of cold wet rainwater that fell too near his exposed calves when he fumbled with buttons and heavy, sloshing layers. They let the clothes drop to their feet carelessly. The dirty water streamed from them in dull webs into the drain below.

“Funny little tune you chose there, Kar,” he commented with a purr, stretching his neck and leaning backward to warm his vibrating throat. “Waitin’ for Troll Orlando bloom to wash up on my shores or somethin’? Should I be jealous?”

“Don’t give me that crap,” Karkat grumbled in response, relaxing his shoulders as Eridan wrapped his arms around him from behind. He always wiggled a bit in his hold as if he was trying to escape but he never seemed to try all that hard. “You’re the one that made me watch that movie over and over again. It just about buried itself in my subconsciousness by now.”

Eridan snorted, leaning down to plant a wet smooch on the side of his head, producing another bitchy growl from his grumpy matesprit. “That's only 'cause we've seen it so many fuckin' times, a television ain't even necessary anymore. We can just recite the thing line for line, scene for scene our own damn selves and it'd be just as good.”

Karkat saw him flick his fingers upward, nimbly grabbing his glasses and setting them on one of the hanging shampoo racks. It amused him when he thought about how Eridan would most likely forget to wipe his glasses before putting them on later and walk around with them all steamed up like that.

Karkat chose that moment to whirl around to face him, brandishing a shampoo bottle and reaching up to squish it hard over Eridan’s hair with a loud unappealing squelch. There was a  quiet plop as a dollop of lavender scented shampoo landed on the top of his head. Karkat minded those wavy horns, angrily lathering on the soap and not putting any effort to be gentle as he scrubbed into those dense curls.

He hated how he had to stand on his tiptoes and make Eridan bend forward a little accomplish this, but he loved messing with Eridan’s sudsy locks of hair, squeezing the shampoo into them and massaging his scalp. They fell into a companionable duet of micro-noises, Eridan’s steady rumbling purr, the noise of the water hitting the bottom of the shower. Lightning outside still crackled fiercely, but Karkat wasn’t scared of it. Eridan was home now and the storm couldn’t change it. Maybe the storm would even make him stay longer.

“What did you do out there? Bury yourself in the mud??” he clucked, wrinkling his nose when his fingers came back gritty from that hair. He brandished the shower head and let Eridan have it, ignoring his little whines of protest as he let go and stepped back against the shower wall. There was always something satisfying about this firing squad routine, like dousing a mangy looking meowbeast with the garden hose.

“Dammit Kar... The eyes! Watch the fuckin' eyes!” Eridan hissed, shaking and splattering muck all over the shower. Karkat sighed, grudgingly slowing the stream so he could adjust. “And it ain't mud,” he added stuffily. “It's the grimy sand and salt straight off the back of your fuckin' HARD-WORKIN' and long sufferin' matesprit! I swear... It ain't like you even pity me sometimes.”

“Excuse me, Princess, I’ll be sure to use ‘no tears’ next time,” said Karkat, rolling his eyes. This time he made sure to get it all out. Eridan hair would be clean, bouncy and fluffy within moments after being dry no matter what he did to it or how humid it happened to be. Genetics weren’t fair at all.

Karkat couldn't help but be drawn in by the image of all those droplets cascading in a glittering fucking shoujo shower over those tight, swimmer-fit cords of muscle. His matesprit was obnoxiously beautiful. You almost had to laugh at it. Even his gills looked appealing, the light way they fluttered like a swath of purple tissue papers with his breathing.

Grabbing one of the hanging wash cloths and wringing out the cold water Karkat placed the shower head back in it's holder. Eridan was watching him closely as he approached, sizing up the situation. He bent his head obligingly as a sea-hoofbeast when the smaller troll lifted the wet rag and stroked it lightly across his chest, under his jaw, over his shoulders. Karkat stiffened a bit as Eridan brushed the back of his fingers over his ear in return. Karkat's eyes closed then. He leaned into him, listening to the interesting rhythm of Eridan's cardiovascular systems as they stood in close silence.

Well, for a little while.

“You know, what the fuck is the point in 'no tears' in shampoos anyway?” Eridan’s voice jarred Karkat out of his state of tranquility. “Moreover, who the hell is goin' to fuckin' gawk with that shit in their eyes. Pandead wrigglers who can’t even muster the basic comprehension of how to fuckin’ shower properly, maybe. It'd make much more sense if it were advertised 'no tears' as in, 'no tearin' in a split ends' kind of way. They'd make a hell of alot more business if you ask-”

“Eridan,” Karkat said, without so much as a sigh. There was not a sigh big enough for the situation. Sometimes the poor, pitiable bastard just couldn’t distinguish when they were trying to have a moment.

“What?” Eridan asked with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t care.”

“Well hell, excuse me for havin' an opinion on the matter.”

 _You’re not excused at all,_ thought Karkat, allowing any ideas about how the night might go to flutter gracefully out the window.

After his hair was washed and his body scrubbed, Eridan grabbed the shampoo bottle and repeated the process on his matesprit. Karkat could have mentioned that he’d already done all this before Eridan had come charging in on his shower but… where was the fun in that?

He greedily soaked up the attention, sighing when those thumbs swirled around his horns. Eridan, who was a colossal sucker, quickly dissolved into giving him a nice head massage and scratching in just the right place on his neck. Karkat would allow himself to be spoiled for as long as his matesprit was in the mood, greedily absorbing all the affection through a highly sophisticated form of cuddlesynthesis.

“We kidnap and ravage… Don’t give a hoot, drink up me hearties, yo ho!” Eridan sang with much bravado, jovially, like the true picture of any salty-ass drunken old sailor. It wasn’t just that, but he did it in this dramatic, moony way on purpose, like a terrible parody of Troll Tom Jones. Karkat was caught so much by surprise that he couldn’t contain his laugh even when he put the palms of his hands over his mouth, it ended up jittering through the spaces between his fingers.

It wasn’t just a little snort of a laugh like usual, but a quivering, unmanageable belly laugh that almost doubled him over. It made him vulnerable to Eridan’s slyest of smooching attacks. One smooch to the side of the head. One to the ear. A hand on his hip.

It was time to retreat. Eridan had just begun assaulting Karkat’s neck with malicious intent when Karkat decided to make his move.  “...Maraud and embezzle and even highjac- Hey!”

Karkat narrowly avoided slipping and breaking his ass again before he slid otter-like out of Eridan’s grasp, grabbing a towel and rushing out of the bathroom with an explosive deranged cackle, taking extreme delight in the “Wwhat the shit?” that echoed from behind him in a tone of utter disbelief.

He knew Eridan was tired from his hunt, but he wasn’t really in the mood to care. He felt exhilarated and full of excitement after learning he was safe. He was in the mood to make Eridan chase him all over the perimeter the hive. And that was exactly what he did. He made double sure to trek water everywhere, just to add that nice little dash of insult to his injury stew.

He raced down the stairs and bolted through the kitchen three times, taunting Eridan until the seadweller charged and they both ended up collapsing on the luxury plateau in a damp and mismatched heap. One long and one short set of legs played a vicious game of footsies, half hanging off the side of the plateau as they struggled and squirmed.

Karkat took extra delight in sitting on Eridan’s stomach, ignoring his wails of woeful protest, although Karkat screamed just as loud when Eridan got him in a headlock. He pushed up against the other troll’s stomach and chest with his feet unsuccessfully, making very cat-like noises of rage when it did absolutely jack shit to budge him.

. Other than each other, the one thing they could both be grateful for was that they didn’t have neighbors in the middle of the ocean. It was times like these when an onlooker might have mistaken them for a black couple, but it only took another smooch to the side of the mouth to change the mood entirely. In the span of a few seconds, they went from hissing at each other, locked in a dramatic one-on-one confrontation, to gently (and very lazily) making out.

Neither of them were particularly interested in taking things further than kissing at the moment, but kissing in and of itself seemed like the right thing to do. It was hard to recognize when you needed to be kissed until after the need was actually met. After all the fuss, Karkat ended up curled on his chest with his mouth fitted against Eridan’s comfortably, cocking his head and enjoying the transference of heat between lips. One cold slender hand was cupping Karkat’s face, another was spread across his lower back.

Karkat sometimes wished Eridan had more hands just so he could put them in different places on his body. Sure, that’d be freakish in reality, but fantasies weren’t practical. The cabin boy thing for example had numerous holes in it from a historical and literary standpoint, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t open for exploring the options.

Eridan always treated him like a troll version of a space heater and tried to vampirically absorb as much warmth from him as possible. Karkat didn’t really mind. HIs body wasn’t stingy about heat production, and frankly, Eridan’s cool body usually felt nothing but good against his skin.

However, after they went a little longer, it seemed like Eridan was just drooling on him rather than actually doing any real kissing. The seadweller was wiped as a bucket-ridden hard drive. Karkat sighed and rubbed his mouth before prodding fiercely at Eridan’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact. “Hey douchefin, you’re tired,” he said firmly. “Go to sleep.” He was glad they hadn’t started any funny business. Eridan looked like he would’ve passed out halfway through it.

“I can stay up,” he said stubbornly, burying his face under Karkat’s chin and burrowing into his hot neck as if trying to escape reality. His nose was so cold that Karkat almost jumped away but he bore it. He was a cold-nose cuddle veteran by now. You had to be prepared to make sacrifices like this for your matesprit, after all.

“I ain't in the mood for movin'. It's too warm here,” the seadweller groaned, trying to sound as pitiable as he possibly could and unanimously succeeding. “Just... leave me be and pay no mind to whether or not I pass the fuck out.”

“Yeah well, that’s tough, my amphibious associate,” Karkat grunted, unswayed. “Because you’re getting your candy ass off this plateau and going to bed. Won’t have you falling asleep without slime and turning me into kibble.” Karkat gave him a good shove to emphasize the point. Eridan made a huge production of rolling himself off the couch.

He dragged his feet as he neared the stairwell, looking back over his shoulder to complain some more for good measure. Just in case, Karkat forgot how wounded he was. “You run this matespritship like a fuckin' dictatorship, holy hell,” he said with a whine in his voice. “One a these days, I'll bring about the tides of a revolution from your godawful tyrannical reign. Strike you down... from your self imposed seat of... “ he interrupted himself with a wide yawn. “Mmnngh... Impropriety and gross abuse of power.”

“Yeah, yeah. Same shit, different night,” Karkat drawled dismissively. “You can bother me tomorrow, I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

“As you wish, your tyrannical Excellence,” said Eridan in a grimace of  ‘I’m Only Doing This Because I Wanted To Anyway’. The other troll briefly wondered if there was a karmic principle for how much you could possibly adore someone and want to choke them at the same time.

Karkat momentarily preoccupied himself with watching the journey of Eridan’s glorious bare ass as he shambled up the stairs. His butt was always a grand spectacle to view, but Karkat liked it best when it was safe and dry in a hive where it belonged.

"Your foul fuckin’ regime of wickedness ends... In about eight to ten hours or... somethin'.” As Eridan’s last irritable mutter faded away, Karkat was left alone again. But not really.

“Sleep well,” he said quietly to the empty room.

Content enough not to care about even his clothes. Karkat curled under the plateau's fuzzy blanket and sat longways, flipping  through the channels on a hunt for romcoms amidst the grim horde of reality shows. Throughout the storm, even when the lights flickered or the T.V fritzed, Karkat felt warm from the inside out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this cheers you up, Karkat. Thank you so much!


End file.
